Single Red Daisy
by xfalloutgirlx
Summary: [oneshot, Deanoc]Of all the things that could kill him one day, this just might be it.


**Single Red Daisy**

**disclaimer: i own dean in my dreams. so in reality, don't sue.**

**a/n: i've been playing with this idea for awhile but never convinced myself to sit down and put the time into writing it...until today. i won't say much because i don't want to give it away.**

**REVIEWS LOVE.**

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_Sometimes I still just can't believe you're gone._

He's not even sure why he keeps coming back here. Back to this one spot year after year. He thinks humorlessly that he might have a death wish.

Because he knows one day this might just kill him.

Every one year. 365 days. 8,760 hours. However you put it, he's here. He pulls into the town, which basically consists of one street, and gets out his car. He always has a single red daisy. And he always walks the same path.

He leaves his car in the parking lot of the town's diner and walks down the street, needing the time to catch his breath. At Lincoln Avenue he turns left, making his way into the thick forest by the path his feet know without the need for thought from him.

Just like every year, his eyes stay glued to the ground as he rounds the last corner. Just like every year, he takes a deep breath and looks up. And just like every year, he remembers why he comes back.

For her. _Hilary. _He walks over slowly, stands in front of her.

"Hey," he whispers, running his fingers lightly over the stone in front of him.

Her gravestone.

His eyes clench shut suddenly. Shut against the memories, but mostly against the graveyard around him. The memories are always hard, but he prefers them over the stark reality of his current surroundings.

When he's not here, when he's anywhere else, he can pretend she's still there. Still alive and happy somewhere.

But here in the graveyard he knows all too well that she's not.

A breeze rustles the leaves on the trees and his breath comes in little white clouds as he opens his eyes again. He contemplates simply leaving for one brief moment.

Instead he lets out the breath he wasn't aware he was holding and sits down next to the stone. He stares at it for a second, the words etched in it.

_Hilary Cooper._ _May 22, 1981 – September 18, 2002._

The thought enters his mind that the inscription is inadequate; that he should have made sure it said something more. Then he shakes it out, knowing she would have wanted it like this. Simple.

Wishing he could stop thinking, he lays the lone daisy in front of the stone, watching the red petals flutter in the wind.

"I thought about bringing you a rose," he says quietly, almost smiling. "Just to piss you off."

His smile widens as the memory of how he came to know her favorite flower hits him. How he had laughed as she ranted about the cliché of roses.

"You remember that day?" he asks, knowing he won't get a response in return. "I showed up later with a bunch of roses and I swear I thought you were going to kill me."

He shakes his head lightly. "It's the day I fell in love with you."

Quiet falls over him as the wind picks up, scattering loose leaves over his feet. He watches their descent from the trees, wishing insanely they would stay up. Live forever.

"The next day I tried to break up with you remember?"

He lets his eyes fall back to the stone next to him. "I thought I could do it too. Thought it would be best. But the second you started crying…"

He trails off, shaking his head disbelievingly. "I knew I couldn't do that to you. So I told you the truth."

He rips a few blades of grass up, immediately angry with himself. His hands clench, the notion that he could have saved her so long ago filling his mind.

Then he lets go, breathing out. He knows if she were here, she wouldn't want him to be angry with himself, to feel guilty over her.

She'd tell him that it wasn't his fault and she loved him.

After all, it was what she had said right before she died. Her last words before she died in his arms.

"I know," he says as though she did speak. "I still wish I hadn't."

He takes a few breaths of the cold air and lets his hands rest on his knees. "My brother Sammy's in the next town. Left him in a motel there."

"We've been hunting together for awhile," he laughs lightly. "I wish you guys could have meet. He would have liked you. At least more than he likes me."

He laughs a little more freely, remembering the morning argument that had ensued when he had informed Sam that he would be gone for the day. And that he would be taking the car.

"My dad called us yesterday," he continued, picking at a spare thread on his jeans. "He told me to tell you 'hi' for him. Says he's gonna come out as soon as he can."

Suddenly he let his head hang, his eyes closed. After a few seconds he raised his eyes back up, but no one was around to see the tears in them.

"I miss you, you know that?"

He rubbed his hands over his face, silently cursing himself. This whole situation.

"It's hard," he continued, his voice sounding slightly choked even to his own ears. "I don't want you to feel guilty, wherever you are. But it sucks."

His shook his head hard, his hands scrubbing over his eyes again. "You're the only thing that mattered to me. The only thing. And now I don't know what to do."

He paused. "I just miss you."

He ran his hand over the daisy's delicate red petals. Exhaling, he stood up and faced the stone. He only waited for a second before he bent over, lightly running his lips over the top. The cold stone an unwelcome opposite to the warmth that her own lips used to bring to his.

"I'll always love you," he whispered into the wind, his words barely registering in his own ears.

Then he turned and walked away without looking back. Because he knew if he looked back, he'd lose the battle warring inside him to break down for good.

His feet beat the path he had taken earlier, only backwards. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets against the cold.

And then when he looked up he was in his car, in the parking lot of the motel in the next town. The light in the window ahead of him was out. His brother was sleeping.

He was glad that he didn't have to answer his questions yet. That he had a good eight hours to think up a decent lie.

Because there would be no sleeping tonight.

Only his eyes staring at the ceiling without seeing anything. Thoughts and memories of her floating over him, reminding him why he was like he was. Why he never had relationships, why he never got too close.

Because she would always be the one he wanted. And she was gone.

_You wont be coming back  
And I didn't get to say goodbye  
Really wish i got to say goodbye._

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**well. there you go. sorry for the depressing-ness. i hate writing things without happy endings but i liked the idea. i think i might write it again though. not so sure if i like it.**

**ive also been thinking about writing a story like this where the girl is actually alive. comments or ideas about that would be appreciated.**

**REVIEWS LOVE.**


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